


On Royalty

by booksandreadingismylife



Series: On Stars and the Constellations They Make [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Black Family, Black Family feelings, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Discussions of death, Dysfunctional Family, Heavily Implied Pining, I gave myself feelings, I make Death Eaters people with emotions, M/M, Missing Scenes, References to Canon, Regulus Black deserved better, Regulus Black really deserved better, Regulus Black should have been in Ravenclaw, Regulus and Sirius both died thinking the other hated them and that makes me sad, The First War sucked, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, everyone lost someone, lots of people died, slight Mood Whiplash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 02:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20418437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksandreadingismylife/pseuds/booksandreadingismylife
Summary: “I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.”Brother, lover, son, friend.Proud, lost, stubborn, loving.Soft and kind. Focused and blind.He has nowhere to turn. He is alone. Good. This way he cannot be betrayed. He would fix his mistake or die trying. His only regret would be not saying goodbye.... or Regulus Black, his loved ones, and how he grieves and succeeds and loves and loses.





	On Royalty

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came _ this _ close to being called "On Binary Stars". 
> 
> For those of you who haven't studied astronomy (like me), aren't utter nerds who look this stuff up for fun (also me), or who haven't looked up the etymology of the Black Family names (not me - until I started writing this series): The star that we identify as "Regulus" is actually made up of four stars, separated into two pairs. The brighter pair is a binary system of two stars who orbit each other: one large and extremely bright, the other much less so. I found it fitting. 
> 
> A few notes before you start reading:
> 
> First: The relationship I have written between Evan and Regulus is at least partially inspired by the relationship they have in [the Redemption Verse](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1389649) by AugustStories (totally worth a read 10/10 recommend checking it out but please no spoilers I'm only half way through).
> 
> Second: I drew heavily on the vibe I get from the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus in _the Iliad_ for their relationship
> 
> Third: at the start of this fic, between the first two quotes/breaks there is a scene involving slightly detailed foreplay. It's more of a set up of the relationship these two characters have and not really explicit at all but towards the end of the section it is heavily implied that they have sex, so if you're not comfortable with reading that just skip straight from the first quote to the second.
> 
> Fourth: This story actually ended up being almost as much about Evan as about Regulus (oops...)
> 
> Finally: **Trigger Warning** \- there are heavy implications of someone knowingly going to their death, references to murder and canon compliant violence, and in the last section slightly implied suicidal tendencies (note: the implication is only really such when taken in conjunction with canon and/or an earlier section - there is no direct reference of the character contemplating suicide in those words but given that the character is both grieving and in a heavily suspect state of mind when making these decisions please tread with caution if this is a trigger for you)

**. . .**

_“I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.”_

**. . .**

Regulus couldn’t stop himself from surging into the kiss. _The last time. This will be the last time_. He ignored the intrusive thought as Evan backed him up against the wall.

He bit off a groan of pleasure and pulled back slightly. “We should really- ah!- get changed-” He tried.

Evan ignored him and started kissing down his neck.

“Our- ngh!- robes!”

“Sod. The robes.” Evan muttered between kisses.

Regulus’ head hit the wall behind him when Evan made a particularly inventive use of his tongue.

“My mother’s going to kill me.” He muttered.

Evan stopped kissing his neck and moved back to look him in the face. Regulus _did not_ whine at the loss.

“Are you really thinking of your mother right now?!”

“Ugh! If you had the lecture I did about taking care of your clothes after we sneaked off at that party in September, you’d be worried too.”

Evan stared at him incredulous. “Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your brain.”

“Learn Legilimency,” Regulus quipped. “Can we get back to the kissing now?”

“Sure.” Evan said, distracted, “Your mother though? _Really_?”

Regulus rolled his eyes and grabbed the front of his robes and dragged him into the bedroom, tossing their wands on the desk as he went.

“Kissing now! Talk later.” He promised, as Evan started to strip them of their robes. Internally he winced at the lie. There would be no later.

If Evan noticed that he was kissing him more desperately than usual, he didn’t let on. Regulus must be a better actor than he thought.

Evan left a particularly vicious nip on his earlobe, and Regulus couldn’t stop the shocked gasp that bubbled up.

Evan moaned in response and ground up against him.

“Ngh! Please.” Regulus demanded.

Evan laughed against his shoulder. “Beg.” He said, voice full of amusement.

A flash of frustration ran through Regulus’ body, Evan took _way_ too much pleasure in turning him into a squirming mess.

Another nip left Regulus writhing against him.

He held out until Evan started sucking on his neck before he couldn’t take it anymore, “Ok, ok, please!”

“What was that? I didn’t quite get that,” another peck on his lips and Regulus could taste the laughter bubbling up on the shorter boy’s tongue.

“I said- p-please.” He couldn’t stop his breath from stuttering when Evan’s hand met his bare skin.

“Please, what?” Evan asked, as he rid Regulus of his robes entirely.

“T- touch me,” Regulus pleaded.

“Much better.” Regulus could feel Evan’s amusement, and dug his fingers into the other boy’s skull slightly more forcefully than was called for.

Evan, the bastard, let out a moan at the sensation, before attacking his nipples with renewed vigour.

“I can’t. Ever. Get enough. Of this.” He told him, as he was slowly kissing down Regulus’ body. “I love you.”

Regulus’ fingers spasmed. They’d said it before, of course. But never like this. Never when they couldn’t plausibly pretend that the other couldn’t hear them, or wouldn’t remember, or it couldn’t be laughed off.

He stilled. “I love you too.”

Evan looked up at him, “Reg?”

He simply stared at him.

“Are you ok?” Evan started to get up, “I know we haven’t-”

Regulus cut him off with a kiss. There was no way Evan couldn’t feel the desperation in it, but he didn’t question it. Morgana bless him for his tendency to insist on daylight and tea to have important talks. Because this would be one. _Too bad it will never happen_. Regulus bit at Evan’s mouth at the thought and the kiss turned vicious.

Evan slowed and gentled the kiss. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” He murmured against his lips, always ready to soothe the hurts he couldn’t see.

Regulus’ eyes were burning, but he didn’t let a single tear fall. He just moved with Evan. _I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry_.

**. . .**

_“He was murdered by Voldemort.”_

**. . .**

Evan heard crying. He frowned. The guest room should be empty. Everyone was at the party downstairs. He’d seen them. _Except Regulus_. He realised.

Evan had known Reg since they were seven, and in all that time had never seen him cry once. He pushed the door open and winced when it creaked.

Regulus went silent the second he heard the door creak. Showing weakness at a pureblood gathering could be fatal and even when it wasn’t led to nothing good. He’d thought he was safe. Bella was busy with Rod, his parents were slowly getting drunk with his Aunt Lucretia and Uncle Alphard, and the other kids were all busy with the enchanted puzzles that his Great-uncle-something Harfang had brought. He should have had at least a few hours before anyone came looking.

“Reg?” Evan appeared to be skipping the puzzles too.

Regulus stayed silent, hoping that if he didn’t respond the older boy would go away.

“I know it’s you. Everyone else is still downstairs.”

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut in defeat. He opened the bed hangings. “So what? You’re going to go and tell everyone that the youngest son of House Black is an embarrassment to his family?” Regulus knew his eyes were red, but he kept his tone scornful, determined that he would retain at least _some _of his dignity.

“Merlin, Reg, no!” Evan’s voice was shocked, and he moved towards him, reaching an arm out.

Regulus flinched. “Then why are you here?”

“Because you’re my friend!”

Regulus stared at the other boy in shock. Friendship was relative to Slytherins. “You really mean that?”

“Of course!” Evan didn’t even hesitate.

Regulus couldn’t stop himself from bursting into tears again.

Evan immediately looked panicked and started flapping his arms. “I’m sorry! Please stop crying! I didn’t mean to upset you!”

Regulus shook his head as he gulped back his tears. “It’s not- It’s not you- your fault.” He hiccupped.

Evan cautiously sat down on the bed next to him.

“It’s Sirius- he- he-” Regulus started crying again.

“Do you want me to tell Bellatrix so she’ll hex him for you?” Evan sounded bewildered.

Regulus latched onto his sleeve. “No, don’t!”

“Ok! I won’t! I promise.”

Regulus forced himself to calm down. “It’s Sirius.” He tried again. “He was supposed to come home for Christmas. And when he didn’t I thought maybe he was scared of how Mum and Dad might react. But then I wrote to him and he- he’s staying with the Potters! He barely wrote to me all term and now when he can actually come and see me, he just decided that he didn’t want to and went home with stupid Potter instead! He promised that he wouldn’t abandon me and that we’d always be brothers, but I guess that was a lie! And he just doesn’t care!” Regulus punched the bed, the words coming out more viciously as his distress turned to anger.

“Well I guess that makes him a bit of twat then, doesn’t it?”

Regulus stared at Evan in confusion. “What’s a twat?”

He shrugged. “No idea. I heard Logan saying it about one of the prefects when Mother wasn’t listening. It didn’t sound very nice.”

Regulus giggled a little bit and Evan smiled in relief that it didn’t seem like he was going to cry again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Regulus pulled a face.

“It’s what Amanda always says when she thinks one of us is upset.” Amanda was his brother’s soon-to-be wife.

Regulus sighed. “I just- We’re supposed to be family. And I don’t understand why he’s just ignoring me all of a sudden. I know he was disappointed that he didn’t get into Slytherin or maybe he never wanted to in the first place but he’s suddenly treating me like I don’t exist and acting like he doesn’t have a brother and I know that he’s worried about Mum and Dad and the Family but that doesn’t mean he can be a- be a- a twat!”

Evan put his hand on Regulus’ leg and patted it lightly, hoping that that was the right thing to do.

Regulus didn’t notice. “I just feel like he’s abandoned me.” He said quietly.

“Well then he’s an idiot.”

Regulus looked up at him sharply.

“You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. I think I like you more than I like my actual family. If your stupid brother can’t see that then he’s not worth crying over.” Evan was very proud of his little speech, and when he looked over at Reg, his eyes were shining, and he was beaming at him.

“I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Regulus admitted.

“You’re my best friend.” Evan told him earnestly. “You have been since Cousin Druella’s birthday party when you accidentally blew Lucas’ cake up because he was making fun of me.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes.” Then Evan’s eyes lit up. “We can even make it official!”

“What do you mean?”

“Well grown up best friends, like my cousin Noah and _his_ best friend, make Vows to always be friends and stuff.”

“Does that mean you won’t abandon me like Sirius did?”

“Of course I won’t!” Evan sounded offended.

“Even if we get sorted into different houses and our families are all disapproving and stuff?”

“Even then.” Evan nodded solemnly.

“Let’s do it!”

Evan climbed onto the bed with him and they closed the hangings. It was dark until Evan crawled up to the headboard and tapped it twice. A dim glow appeared, giving them just enough light to see by.

“Cool.” Regulus grinned, teeth flashing in the dim light.

“Yeah, I guess.” Evan’s voice was sheepish, but he looked very pleased that Regulus thought so.

“So how does the Vow work?” Regulus asked once they’d settled down properly and their knees had stopped knocking together every time they shifted.

Evan frowned. “I don’t really know. I think we hold hands.” They did. “And then we solemnly promise to always be friends?”

“That’s it?” Regulus’ brow furrowed as he looked down at their joined hands.

Evan chewed on his lip. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “Cousin Noah and Uncle Alex didn’t do it until they were grown-ups, Logan was still really little then and I don’t think Lucas was born yet.”

“Well what if we promise to never ever abandon each other, even if everyone else wants us to, and then say something in Latin?”

Evan made a face. “Why in Latin?”

Regulus shrugged. “Great-aunt ‘Peia said that whenever she does rituals and Vows and stuff, she always uses Latin.”

“Ok then. What do we say?”

They both thought for a moment. Then Regulus’ face lit up.

“I know! We can say ‘Nemo nisi mors’!”

“Nemo nisi mors,” Evan repeated slowly, rolling the words around on his tongue. “What does it mean?”

“’No one but death can break this promise’ or something like that. It’s perfect!”

“I like it.” Evan decided. “And we can add a bit about be friends ‘til the end or something. Because that’s what Cousin Noah and Uncle Alex did.”

“Now what?”

“I’ll start.” Evan grabbed Regulus’ hand again and held it against the middle of his chest with both of his, like his uncles always did at gatherings when they thought no one was looking. “I, Evan Alan Rosier, do solmenly- solmly- _solemnly_ promise to always be friends with you. No matter what, even if everyone else tells me not to. Until the very end.” He frowned and then said the last part slowly and carefully, “Nemo nisi mors.”

Regulus lit up. He moved the hand that Evan was holding and grabbed Evan’s hand and then carefully brought it to his chest in mimicry. “I, Regulus _Arcturus_ Black,” he spoke his name slowly, not wanting to trip over all the syllables, “do solemnly promise to always be friends with _you_. Even if my family doesn’t like it, no matter what happens.” He nodded in satisfaction, then rushed to finish, “Until the very end. Nemo nisi mors.”

Both boys lowered their hands and stared at each other for a second.

“Is that it?” Regulus asked dubiously. “I don’t feel any different.”

“I think so.” Evan frowned. “We definitely did it right. Because Cousin Noah said that he and Uncle Alex promised to stay best friends until they died. And we said that bit about death. And we closed all the loopholes and stuff.”

“So we’re best friends for life?”

Evan nodded slowly, “I think so.”

“This is so great.” Regulus gushed. “I’ve never made a Vow before.”

“And now we’re best friends for life!”

“Now we’re best friends for life!”

**. . .**

Later, when they were spent and had worked up the energy to put on some nightclothes before falling into bed, Regulus just looked at Evan and watched his chest rise and fall in the faint starlight. They’d forgotten to close the curtains.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Fifteen.

Regulus knew he had to leave. But he wanted just a little more time.

Finally, he forced himself to silently slip out of bed without disturbing his partner.

He slowly got dressed and picked up his wand. He cast a silencing spell on his feet and then a sleeping spell on Evan, ensuring he’d sleep until dawn at least. He didn’t heal the bruises left by Evan’s mouth and fingers.

He moved around the flat, removing his notes, notebooks, and personal journals from their various hiding places around the room and placing them in a hemp bag he’d conjured for the purpose. He prolonged the process as long as possible. After a moment of consideration, he added the copy of _Darkest of the Arts: What History Doesn’t Tell You_ that he’d hidden on the bookshelf, behind Evan’s copy of _Numerology and Grammatica_ that he hadn’t opened once in the five and a half months they’d lived here. He couldn’t risk Evan stumbling upon the same secret he had.

He checked that he had everything, then sealed the bag and placed it in the fireplace.

“_Incendio_.” He kept his voice quiet, even with a sleeping spell, Evan wasn’t a deep sleeper and he couldn’t risk him waking. While the papers burned, he retrieved the parchment with the details Kreacher had given him about the potion and the cave from behind the photo of himself and the others at the New Year party and wiped it clean before putting it in his pocket. He held onto the photo for a moment longer. He and Evan were holding hands and staring at each other, absolutely besotted, and they didn’t notice photo-Barty mocking them in the background. Photo-Rab was rolling his eyes and holding Barty back from getting in between them. He put the photo down a little more forcefully than necessary and ignored the bitterness in his mouth that tasted a lot like guilt.

Once the bag and all the damning evidence had burned, he vanished the ash and cast the scent charm that Cissy had taught him to vanish bad smells, such as Evan’s awful attempts at cooking. He then cast a gentle wind charm to disperse the scent of freshness that the cleaning charm left behind.

He placed the letter he’d written to Evan, containing all of the things he couldn’t say or was too much of coward to verbalise, in the copy of _The Iliad _that he’d been reading on nights when he couldn’t sleep.

He crept back into the bedroom and placed the book on the bedside table on his side of the bed. Evan deserved to have some sort of explanation. Even if it wasn’t a very good one. If it came to a choice between telling him the truth and keeping him safe, Regulus would protect Evan, every time.

He ran his hand gently through Evan’s hair, and Evan rolled over from where he was sprawled, searching for Regulus’ warmth. He froze. Evan didn’t wake up, but turned his head towards Regulus, unconsciously seeking the contact. Regulus let out the breath he’d been holding.

“I’m so sorry, Evan.” He whispered to the sleeping boy. “I love you so much, and I’m so sorry for what I’m about to do to you. Please don’t hate me. Please.” He begged; voice weak.

Regulus selfishly leaned over to kiss him one last time, he knew that it might wake him, but he couldn’t bear to leave without saying some sort of goodbye. And it was tradition. Kiss for luck.

The spell held. Evan didn’t stir, and Regulus breathed in the shared air for a moment longer, before regretfully moving back.

“Goodbye…” he whispered.

He checked the flat one final time for any evidence that might be found about where he was going and what he was doing and found nothing. He forced himself not to linger and glanced around. The last five months, between all of the meetings and raids and frantic hidden research, had been bliss. It had felt like it would last forever. But nothing could. That was why he had to do this.

He walked out of the door and locked it behind him, before striding away to the apparition point – where he would meet Kreacher – without looking back.

He pretended not to notice the ominous finality of the building door swinging shut behind him.

**. . .**

_“Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back”_

**. . .**

Master Regulus was in the kitchen.

Master Regulus looked up at the noise. “Sorry for disturbing you, Kreacher.” His eyes were red, and his voice was slightly raspy.

Master Regulus was _in_ the _kitchen_.

“I got myself a glass of water,” he held up the offending object, “I hope you don’t mind.”

MASTER REGULUS WAS IN THE KITCHEN!

Kreacher let out a quiet shriek and began frantically cleaning the already clean countertops, muttering to himself all the while. “Master Regulus should not be in the kitchen. Kreacher is being a bad elf in not making sure Master Regulus is having somewhere else to go. Kreacher should be punished. Oh, yes, he should be.” He started hitting his head on the countertops between sentences and Regulus sprang up, alarmed.

“Kreacher! Kreacher, stop!”

Kreacher hesitated. Master Regulus is telling him not to punish himself. But Kreacher is a bad elf! Master Regulus is being upset and Kreacher is not helping him. He launched himself at the big copper pan over the stove.

“Kreacher NO! I forbid you to punish yourself!”

Kreacher stopped in his tracks, sulkily. “But Kreacher is a bad elf.” He informed Master Regulus.

“What? No! You’re not a bad elf! What are you talking about?”

“Master Regulus is being upset and coming to the kitchen and Kreacher is not knowing and is making Master Regulus sad.

Master Regulus crouched down in front of Kreacher so that they were at the same level. “I’m not upset because of you, Kreacher. I actually came down here because being around you makes me feel better.” He said, softly.

“Master Regulus is coming to see Kreacher because he likes him?” Kreacher asked, voice tremulous.

“Yeah.” Master Regulus smiled. “You’re always there when I need you.”

Kreacher puffed up his chest in pride. He was a _good_ elf. Making Master Regulus feel better when he was sad. Then he frowned.

“If Master Regulus came down here because he was already sad, then what is making him sad?”

Master Regulus looked down at the floor, then moved to sit back down at the table.

Kreacher snapped his fingers and made a pot of the ginger tea that Master Regulus liked so much.

Master Regulus picked up the freshly poured mug and inhaled deeply. “I miss Sirius.” He admitted.

Kreacher looked at him in incomprehension.

“I know he made his feelings clear when he left. But he’s my brother and we barely spoke before and now we’ve got even less reason to and I just miss him.”

“Master Sirius is being a wretched, undeserving brat of a Master. He is being a nasty, ungrateful blood-traitor. Oh yes, he is. He is not deserving Master Regulus’ affection.”

Master Regulus smiled softly at him. “I appreciate the defence, Kreacher, but please don’t insult Sirius like that.”

“But it is being true. Kreacher is never liking Master Sirius. Kreacher is _always_ knowing that he would be bad.”

“Maybe.” Master Regulus admitted after another mouthful of tea. “But I still miss him.”

Kreacher was unsure what to do with the information, so he patted Master Regulus’ elbow and offered him biscuits.

Master Regulus smiled gratefully at him and asked him about what he’d been cooking recently.

Kreacher would distract Master Regulus from nasty Master Sirius. He would be making sure Master Regulus was happy. Master Regulus is being his favourite Master, after all. Even though Kreacher is not supposed to be having favourites.

**. . .**

The sun shone through the window, directly onto the bed. Evan groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. They had forgotten to close the curtains. He made a face without opening his eyes.

“It’s too early.” He whined.

There was no response from Regulus, so he rolled over to shake him.

His hand met empty sheets. Evan’s eyes shot open. “Reg?” He called.

The sheets were cold. Reg had been gone for hours.

“Reg!”

Evan started to panic. Reg’s insomnia was nothing new, but he normally just stayed in bed and read all night. He’d never left before.

He grabbed his wand off the desk, where Reg had tossed it last night, along with his own. Regulus’ wand was nowhere to be found.

“_Homenum Revelio._” Evan hoped desperately that Reg was somewhere in the flat and just hadn’t heard him calling.

The spell came back. No life forms in the flat lit up. “Ok, ok, don’t panic. He’s probably just gone to Barty’s or something. Didn’t want to wake me.”

Evan walked, he didn’t run, he walked to the cupboard in the corner of the sitting room, where they kept the wardstone.

“You’re being ridiculous.” He told himself. But he still needed to check. Reg hadn’t left a note anywhere to indicate where he’d gone or when he’d be back. He was meticulous about that. Ever since people had started disappearing with no indication of whether they were dead or not, neither Evan nor Reg, nor any of their friends, left the house without letting the other know.

**. . .**

_“He had the same dark hair and slightly haughty look of his brother, though he was smaller, slighter, and rather less handsome.”_

**. . .**

When Barty first stumbled across the scene he almost choked in surprise. At first glance it could be a study in mirror images. Then the differences set in. One of the boys was slightly taller than the other. One was more lean. The taller boy’s hair was more tousled, and the shorter boy’s robes were impeccable. And of course, the one boy had robes lined in red, the other in green.

Barty wondered if it was too late to back away. The fights between the Black brothers were both explosive and legendary. And he was tired.

“Ugh! If you weren’t so caught up in worshipping the ground our parents walk on maybe you would see the truth staring you in the face?”

“Me?! At least I don’t parade around the school like I own it! You think you’re any better? Following Potter around like a lost puppy and nodding and agreeing with him about everything? Have a little dignity! You are, after all, a _Black_, and yipping at somebody’s heels is unbecoming.”

Barty winced. _Ouch_. Regulus wasn’t pulling any punches. He wondered what had set them off this time.

“Dignity?” The older Black’s voice grew low and dangerous. “You’re one to lecture me about dignity, Reggie. I’m not the one so busy staring at the object of my affection that my potion blows up in my face!”

Regulus’ face went white and two spots of red appeared high on his cheekbones.

_Well, fuck_. The only people who didn’t know that Evan and Reg were head over heels for each other, were Evan and Reg. And neither of them would believe they had a chance with the other. If he had to listen to one more rant about how beautiful Evan’s hair was or how perfect Reg’s hands were, he’d kill someone. And of course, their respective feelings were guaranteed to set off the temper of either one of them. Now he _had_ to intervene, or Rab would be mad at him for letting it happen.

“Hey, Reg. Black.” He walked up to them as if he’d only just noticed they were there, and they weren’t seconds away from attracting the attention of everyone within three floors.

Both brothers turned to look at him. He was again struck by their similarity. Their eyes were identical, down to the simmering rage that made the grey look stormy and violent, rather than the tranquil, shimmery colour they went when they were calm. He did a double take inside his head. _Shimmery colour? I’ve been spending _way _too much time with Evan_.

“Nothing much.” Black’s voice was bright, his tone slightly smug, as though his eyes weren’t promising death for the interruption. “Just a calm, cheerful conversation with my brother over our life choices.”

_Calm, cheerful conversation? Yeah, right. And I’m a unicorn._ “Your life choices? Sounds fascinating. My father’s got my future all planned out, of course.” He was careful not to let any bitterness seep into his tone. The look Reg levelled him with told him he didn’t entirely succeed, but at least Reg didn’t look like he was on the brink of exploding anymore.

“Yes. Sirius and I were having a slight _difference_ of opinion.”

_You were trying to tear each other’s throats out you mean_.

“We’ve agreed to disagree. That’s the smart thing to do in a situation like this, wouldn’t you say, Crouch?” Sirius’ smile was all teeth, and Barty became acutely aware of his own blue-lined robes.

“Yes. When it comes to discussions about your, uh, future, if you don’t think what the other person wants to do is your kind of, um, thing, then you should definitely just agree to, uh, disagree.” Barty hated the way Sirius Black could make him feel so insecure and knew without even looking that Reg felt the same way. If anything he had it worse. He was his brother, after all.

A clatter of footsteps announced the arrival of the three Gryffindors that Black spent all his time with, and he and Regulus automatically stepped a little closer together, suddenly outnumbered two to one. Whilst Reg was usually of limits when it came to pranks and bullying, Barty wasn’t about to bet on it given the situation he’d walked in on.

“Well, what’s going on here then?” James Potter’s voice was as obnoxious as ever, but Barty caught him giving both Black and Regulus quick once overs – checking for damage.

“Looks like a serious conversation.” Peter Pettigrew piped up.

Both Black and Potter grinned at the pun.

Remus Lupin rolled his eyes and grimaced slightly apologetically at Regulus.

“More like a conversation _with_ Sirius.” He corrected. “A _private_ conversation.” He added pointedly.

Barty suppressed a snort. _Who does he think he’s kidding?_ Those four idiots _lived_ in each other’s pockets and he’d be surprised if there was _anything_ they kept from each other. And even if they didn’t, conversations between the Black brothers were _never_ private. Their relationship was considered the hottest gossip to ever grace the walls of Hogwarts. Not to mention, if Evan ever found out that Reg had kept a conversation with his brother secret, he’d tear a strip off him in a heartbeat.

The look on Black’s face showed that he shared the same sentiment and he opened his mouth to make a no doubt inflammatory remark. Reg gripped the wand that had appeared in his hand at some point a little more tightly. But before either of the two Black family _idiots_ could do anything, Evan and Rab came swiftly around the corner.

Barty could have kissed them. Well, not Evan. Regulus might actually kill him if he kissed Evan. But Rab certainly. He didn’t know how they managed to have such impeccable timing (his money was on Evan somehow having developed a “_Reg’s in trouble and needs a rescue”_ sense) but he relaxed, the odds having evened at their appearance. Evan, the besotted knight-in-shining-armour that he was, moved so that he was slightly in front of Regulus and blocking any spells that Potter, Lupin or Pettigrew might have thrown with his body.

Black sent Regulus a pointed look, that had him flushing again, before turning to his friends, “Right, well I don’t know about you lot, but I’m done here. Crouch. Lestrange. _Rosier_.” He nodded at each of them in turn, his voice turning poisonous at the last name, and glowered at Evan.

“Agreed.” Regulus bit out. “Potter. Lupin. Pettigrew.” He moved around Evan to meet each of their eyes in turn, then, with absolutely perfect pureblood poise, swept his robes around to leave.

“See you around, Reggie. Love to finish the conversation at some point.” Black’s voice was slightly mocking.

Regulus’ flush, which had faded, bloomed up again. “Good luck in your potions exam, Siri. _Always_ willing to lend a hand if you need it.” His voice was saccharine sweet, which Barty would bet his broom he’d learned from Narcissa, and he shot a dismissive look at his brother before sauntering off. He didn’t look back, but if he had he would have seen his brother turn scarlet and the delighted, slightly lustful smirk on Evan’s face. _Hopeless. They’re absolutely hopeless!_

**. . .**

“_Accio_ Note.” Evan tried. Nothing came flying towards him. He checked everywhere anyway. Nothing in the bed, where they would normally leave the note if the other was sleeping. Nothing stuck to the bathroom mirror, where the other would see it when they went to the loo. Nothing on the kitchen table, where it was clearly visible from everywhere in the room. Nothing on the table by the door, where they left their money pouches and wand holsters. Nothing on the coffee table in the sitting room, where it was easily seen from every entrance. Nothing in the wardrobe, on the counters, on the sofa, on any of the doors. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Regulus always left a note. Always. Even if he was summoned in the middle of the night when bleeding out, he still took the time to write a note.

“Ok, you asked for it.”

They had an agreement that they wouldn’t check the wardstone except in cases of emergency. They didn’t have a need to track comings and goings in other situations. Especially given the fact that between Rab, Barty, his brothers, and the Blacks, it was normally as effective as trying to tag every individual coming and going at King’s Cross on a bank holiday.

But Reg hadn’t left a note.

He tapped the wardstone with his wand and waited for it to glow before speaking the password when his wand vibrated. “_Nemo nisi mors_.” Barty and Rab thought it was morbid, but he liked it. It was the promise he and Reg had made.

His wand vibrated once more to indicate that the password had been accepted, then the wardstone glowed again, before the light faded away to reveal writing that indicated the most recent comings and goings.

Evan’s blood ran cold.

Regulus had left in the middle of the night, less than an hour after they’d gone to bed. He must have waited until Evan was asleep and then sneaked out. And he wasn’t back yet.

Tea. He needed tea. He was probably just tired and overreacting. Regulus was fine. He’d just sneaked out to get Evan a Christmas present or something.

He tapped one of the four stones hanging from the wall anyway. They all had a set, and the stones all had Protean charms on them – so that they could let each other know they were needed. Barty’s should be heating up and glowing to let him know that Evan needed him. He briefly considered calling Rab, but the Lestranges were still in mourning. And it was probably nothing.

**. . .**

_“He was younger than me, and a much better son”_

**. . .**

Regulus hid his crossed fingers in his robe as the hat covered his head.

“_Aha! What have we here? _Another_ Black?_” Regulus heard a voice in his head that wasn’t his own and nearly jumped out of his skin. A whisper of irritation skittered down his arms, causing his fingers to clench involuntarily.

“_Oh? Have I offended you?”_ The voice, that must somehow belong to the Sorting Hat, sounded amused.

“Yes,” he thought at the Hat, crossly, “There aren’t _that_ many Blacks! The Weasleys breed like rabbits, and have you _seen_ how many McKinnon cousins there are?”

“_Fair enough, I suppose. I simply meant that I wasn’t expecting to see a Black so soon after your brother, and such a unique mind as well.”_

“Mine or his?”

“_Can’t it be both?”_

“I guess.” Regulus was unconvinced. “I’ve been thinking about it on the way here, and I’m almost certain that I belong in Slytherin more than any other house.”

“_Oh, do you?_”

“Yes. I was going over all the House traits, you see. Hufflepuff requires loyalty and hard work of course, both of which I’m willing to admit I have. But according to my grandmother, the house also values fair play and honesty above most else. And I do not consider myself very honest and I cheat at things rather a lot. Except on tests.” This last Regulus added rather hastily – he didn’t know if the Hat spoke to the staff or not, but he didn’t want to get pegged as a troublemaker.

“_Well, I agree with you so far, Hufflepuff was never a consideration for you.”_

“Well, Gryffindor’s prized traits are courage and chivalry, and daring as well, I suppose, although that really isn’t all that different to courage. I don’t consider myself to be particularly courageous, and I’m certainly not daring – I leave that to my brother – so Gryffindor’s out.”

The Hat remained silent, but Regulus got the impression of listening attentively, so he continued.

“Next is Ravenclaw. Creativity and a thirst for knowledge are considered traits of the house, as your song just demonstrated. I admit to seeking as much information I can get my hands on, but creativity is not my strong suit, and frankly, I’m nowhere near as intelligent as my brother or older cousins, none of whom went to Ravenclaw. That leaves Slytherin – the traits you just mentioned are cunning, resourcefulness and ambition. I’m not _not_ cunning, and I know for a fact that I’m resourceful, my brother is always complaining about how I’m always finding loopholes. And as for ambition, I aim to be good enough to become an Unspeakable – which is notoriously difficult. Quite the ambition, don’t you think? Not to mention determination is also a quality of the house, and as this speech shows, I’m very determined to go to Slytherin.” Regulus finished, then waited for the Hat’s judgement.

“_Hmm. Hmmmm. Hmm.” _The Hat considered his words. “_You’ve forgotten that determination is also a Gryffindor trait, young Black.” _

Regulus’ blood ran cold, but the Hat continued on, regardless.

“_And then there’s the fact that you compiled this speech. And at such a young age, too. I’d say you’re very smart._”

“I’m not a Gryffindor! I’m nothing like my brother!”

“_You’re more alike than you would think.” _The Hat corrected him.

“I’m not!”

“_Relax. I won’t sort you into Gryffindor. I’m simply letting you know that it would have been an option had you asked._” The Hat paused. “_However, you have brushed aside your aptitude for Ravenclaw too soon.”_

Regulus was confused.

“_You are much more intelligent than you give yourself credit for, you are logical, motivated, and wise beyond your years. Rowena Ravenclaw would have snatched you up for her house in a heartbeat, and woe betide Salazar if he had tried to stop her.”_

“I can’t be in Ravenclaw!”

“_You fit there well.”_

“Would I fit in in Slytherin?”

The Hat hesitated but had to tell the truth. “_Yes, you would. Not as well as you would in Ravenclaw, but well enough.”_

“Do I get a choice?”

“_Yes.”_ The Hat refrained from pointing out the logical method he was using to convince it to put him in Slytherin.

“Then I choose Slytherin.”

“_Are you sure?_” The Hat tried one last time.

“Yes.” Regulus was firm. “It is better for both me and my brother if _one_ of us goes to the House we should.”

The Hat didn’t bother to correct the mistaken assumptions of most of wizardkind and refrained from pointing out the Gryffindor nobility and almost self-sacrifice of the boy.

“_Very well then. If I can’t convince you otherwise…”_

“You can’t.”

Determination to achieve his ends. “_Alright then. Off with you. I’ll sort you into _SLYTHERIN!” This last was bellowed to the entire hall, and the green and silver clad table clapped, some of them with more relief than others.

** . . .**

It wasn’t nothing. Barty had gone straight for the wardstone after arriving, once Evan had explained the situation, and checked when Regulus had left. He was the best at charms, and he quickly determined that Reg hadn’t apparated or flooed out. He’d left by foot. Regulus was lazy enough that he never left by foot unless he was with someone else. And he’d left alone.

“He was trying to avoid being tracked.” _Please, please, please let him be okay. Please let me just be overreacting_.

Barty nodded. “Wherever Reg went last night – he didn’t want to be followed. Given how paranoid he is, he probably walked for a while and then apparated multiple times so that no one could follow him.”

Evan squeezed his eyes shut. Reg left on his own. He left willingly. _He’s fine. He’ll be back soon and have a right laugh about how panicked we are. _

“Evan. I think your instincts are right. I think something’s wrong.”

“No! No, you weren’t supposed to say that! You were supposed to say I’m being stupid and an overprotective worrywart again and that Reg can take of himself and that he’s absolutely fine and-”

“Evan!” Barty grabbed him and pushed him to sit on the sofa. “Breathe. You’re not going to help him by panicking.”

“Right. No, you’re right. Ok, where would he have gone, that he wouldn’t want anyone following him?”

Barty shut his eyes and exhaled. “His brother’s.”

“No. No, they hate each other, don’t be ridiculous.”

Barty started pacing. “It was Black’s birthday last week. This is the first time that they’ve both been out of Hogwarts and free to meet. Black sent that letter recently about the possibility of talking. Potter’s parents died a few months ago and Black will be mourning them. Melania Black just recovered from Dragon Pox. Pick a reason, any reason.” Barty listed off a bunch of reasons that Regulus might have gone to see his estranged brother.

“No. If Regulus was considering meeting his brother, he’d have told me.”

“Even if meeting said brother could be considered traitorous?”

Evan sent Barty a flat look. “He would have told me.” He repeated.

“Fine. I believe you. Not his brother’s then.” Barty held his hands up in surrender. “Where else would he go?”

“I don’t know.”

“His parents might.”

“Mmm. Maybe. I’ll start calling around to everyone to see if they’ve seen him. You go and talk to Walburga and Orion.”

Barty made a face. “Why do I have talk to his parents?”

“Do you want to call Snape?”

“Fuck no! I’ll take the terrifyingly murderous parents, thanks.”

Evan smirked at him.

“Yeah, yeah, we can’t all be Dark Arts prodigies… Don’t call Rab!”

“What do you think I am – stupid? I’m not calling Rab until we’ve exhausted every other option, including Sirius and the Potters. He’s got enough on his plate.”

“Let me know _immediately_ if he comes back.”

Evan pointedly rolled his eyes.

“All right, all right. I’m going. Wish me luck in the dragon’s den.”

Evan couldn’t help smiling at Barty’s dramatics. His smile dropped when he caught sight of the mug on the table. He’d automatically taken out two and started making Regulus tea too. _He’ll be fine. Please, please, please be fine_.

**. . .**

_“Stupid idiot … he joined the Death Eaters.”_

**. . .**

Sirius found Harry in the tapestry room, tracing the line that connected Dorea Black to Charlus Potter.

“He was your first cousin twice? removed, I think.”

Harry looked up at him sharply.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

Harry looked back at the tapestry in silence, tracing the lines that connected Dorea Potter née Black to Sirius and Regulus.

“Tell me more about him,” Harry asked softly.

“Why do you want to know more about my idiot brother?” Sirius’ voice came out more harshly than he intended, and Harry flinched. “Sorry.” Sirius ran a hand through his hair. “I- I miss him,” he admitted.

“Even though he was a Death Eater?” Harry sounded confused.

Sirius let out a hollow laugh. “That didn’t really matter to me at all.”

Harry frowned at him.

“He was my stupid, fussy, little brother, with a stick so far up his arse I’m surprised he could walk straight and the subtlety of a brick when it came to the people he cared about. I loved him to pieces.”

“Oh.” Harry said quietly. “I don’t really know what that feels like.”

Sirius sighed and slid down the wall, staring at his brother’s faded name. “The only time I ever saw your father as furious as your mother was when I cornered Evan Rosier alone after Reg’s funeral and tried to force him to tell me what happened. I didn’t even have a wand.”

Harry looked at him shocked. “What happened?”

“I wasn’t thinking straight, my little brother, who I was supposed to protect, was dead. I got lucky. Evan was as distraught as I was. Those two were as close as lovers. He didn’t even bother to move when he saw me coming. Just said ‘He’s gone,’ in the most awful, empty voice. He promised that if he ever found out what happened, he’d tell me.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know. About a year and a half later I got a letter from him saying that Regulus wanted me to know that I was right, and that Voldemort had killed him. By the time I’d seen the damn thing he was dead.”

“Mad-Eye killed him.” Harry remembered.

“Yeah. I always wondered what he’d found out. Guess I’ll never know.”

Harry sat down next to him and leaned his head on his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.”

Sirius wrapped his arm around him and stroked his head. “Your welcome, kiddo…”

**. . .**

Reg wasn’t at Snape’s or Avery’s. He wasn’t with Rowle or Yaxley or the Selwyns. Evan’s brothers hadn’t seen him, and the Malfoys hadn’t even known he was back from his trip to France. Every call made Evan more and more tense, until he was wound up so tightly, he thought he might snap. He was on the brink of saying “Fuck it” and calling Black when Barty apparated straight into the sitting room.

“Call Rab.” Was all he said.

“What?”

“Call Rab.” Barty looked terrible and far more exhausted than he should be, given that he’d only been gone an hour.

An icy terror gripped his heart. “Barty, what did you find out?”

Barty lost his patience and shoved him out of the way, sticking his head in the flames to call Lestrange Manor.

Evan slowly moved into the kitchen to where the still warm pot of tea was waiting. He could hear Barty moving around in the background, but the conversation he was having with Rabastan was too muffled to understand.

Evan gathered three mugs, leaving Reg’s where it was, and pointedly didn’t use his wand to carry the tea things over to the table.

Rab flooed in the second Barty’s head cleared the fireplace and didn’t even pause, striding directly to his seat and picking up his mug.

“What did you find?”

Barty, the arse, kept his mouth shut as he took his time sitting down, making his tea, picking up his mug.

Evan turned to exchange an exasperated glance with Regulus – Barty’s poker face was legendary – and was abruptly reminded of why they were here. The sofa suddenly seemed conspicuously empty, and Evan shifted so he was perched on the arm instead.

Barty hesitated before he spoke, looking like he’d rather not speak at all. “When I got to No. 12, Mrs Black was in the tapestry room.”

“No-” Evan couldn’t help the small noise of denial that came out of his mouth.

Barty continued as if he hadn’t heard him, and for once Evan couldn’t help but be grateful for his stubborn persistence. “She was hysterical, and Mr Black was just standing in the doorway in silence. I pushed my way into the room, and it was like I wasn’t even there. Neither of them noticed me. And I- I saw what they were looking at.” For the first time since he’d met him, Barty stumbled over his words. “Reg’s spot on the tapestry was faded. He’s dead.” Barty choked on the last sentence, and had to put his mug down, his hands were trembling so much.

Evan didn’t notice. _He’s dead_. Barty’s voice repeated. _He’s dead._

_He’s deeeaaaaaaaaaaad._

_He’s d e a d_.

_ d e a d_

“Evan?” Rab’s voice was distant. “Evan!”

Someone grabbed his shoulders and shook him. He followed the arms to Rab. He looked blurry. Was he underwater?

Barty smacked him.

**. . .**

_“[The Black] family were all safer if they kept to the old pure-blood line. Regulus was trying to protect them all.”_

**. . .**

** _Evan,_ **

** _Dear, dear Evan. I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry. I don’t know if you’ll ever see this letter. I’ve already tried to write it at least a dozen times, and I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to leave it where you can find it. _ **

** _This is a goodbye._ **

** _I can’t say it in person. I’ll never say it in person. I’d lose my nerve if I ever tried. I’m sorry about that too – that all you’ll ever get is this letter._ **

** _I hope you won’t panic on the day that you wake up to find me gone. I hope you think I just ran away like a coward. Because I am one. And better that than the truth._ **

** _It’s the Dark Lord, Evan. He’s a monster. My brother was right, and I should have listened. I was such an idiot. We all were! He’s a liar and a hypocrite and the things He’s done. Evan, it’s absolutely foul. I thought I knew the depths a wizard could sink to. But I could never have imagined this._ **

** _I dare not write the word in a letter. He’ll kill you if He so much as suspects that you know. Merlin knows, He uses casual Legilimency too much for me to risk your life that way._ **

** _My life is the only one I can risk for this. You and the others mean too much for me to put you at risk, and I cannot ask my family to stand against this. I would ask Sirius if I could, but too much has happened, and he’d hex me as soon as look at me, if he even let me get close. Even if he did listen, he would insist on going straight to Dumbledore, and that is not something I can chance. Not with this._ **

** _I don’t know what to do, Evan. Every new piece of information I uncover is more damning and I have no one I can safely turn to. What should I do? I keep trying to picture what you’d say. What Barty would do. How Rab would react to the ridiculous suggestions we’d all come up with._ **

** _I’m lost, Evan. And I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know that I need to fix what I broke and correct my mistake, even if it kills me._ **

** _Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll never need to read this letter. The situation will be resolved before it matters. But the more I find out, the more I doubt it will. _ **

** _In the end, the Dark Lord will be responsible for my death. Here it is: j'accusé. Whether it’s because of His actions or by His hand, He’ll be the one who kills me. _ **

** _I knew when I found out that I would die just for knowing. I’ve never been the best actor or liar. So, it’s just a matter of how and when. I hope it will be on my terms but know better than to bet on it. I keep waiting for Him to summon me so He can kill me. For Him to ask me to stay behind after a meeting because He knows that I know. _ **

** _But I’ve made my decision. No more standing back and watching things happen. _ **

** _I’m sorry Evan. I’m going to die. One way or another, whether by His hand or through my own actions. And I’m sorry that you’ll probably never find out the whole reason why or what really happened. I’m just sorry. And I keep using that word. But it’s true, it’s so true and it kills me that it will never be enough._ **

** _Please don’t hate me for keeping this from you and lying. It would be easier if you did, but I’m much too selfish to ask for that. Tell Barty and Rab that I’m sorry and that I wish there was another way. That last part’s a lie, but please don’t tell them that. This is the only way. Because any other way that I find has far too high a cost for me to consider it. _ **

** _If you can, as unlikely as it is, please tell my brother that I love him and that he was right and I should have listened to him. Let Cissy and Bella know that I love them, too. They’ll probably be vicious and angry because this will hurt them – will be personal in a way that very few things have ever been before. I won’t put you in any crosshairs and ask you to tell them. But if you can find a way to let them know, please do._ **

** _I’m running out of things to say to keep this letter going, which is unfortunate, since I still don’t really know how to end it._ **

** _I know you well enough to know that you’ll probably keep this as the last thing left of me. Please don’t live in memories. It hurts to write this, but: Please. Move on. Don’t stay stuck on me. Find happiness with somebody, somewhere. Don’t waste your life on a dead man. Anybody would be lucky to have you._ **

** _I love you. More than you will ever know. _ ** ** _Nemo nisi mors_ ** _._

** _Forgive me, I beg of you._ **

** _Regulus _ ** ** _x_ **

** _P.S. – None of this is your fault. Please don’t even think about blaming yourself _ **

**. . .**

“He’s not dead.” Was the first thing that tumbled out of Evan’s mouth when Rab let go of his shoulders. “It’s a trick or a joke or a prank or something.”

“Evan.” Rab’s voice was sympathetic, and Evan felt like he might be sick. Rab had used the exact same tone on his brother after the funeral a few weeks ago.

“I cast a diagnostic.” Barty blurted. They both turned to look at him. “When I saw the tapestry – saw today’s date. I cast a diagnostic. Thought it must have been faked or something. But- it… um.”

“Barty?” Evan hated how hopeful his voice sounded.

Barty shook his head. “The tapestry wasn’t tampered with. It-” he took a deep breath, “It updated itself just after four this morning.”

Evan heard ringing. “But- we didn’t even go to bed until almost two.”

“Reg was gone by half-past.”

“No! No.” Evan shook his head frantically. He wasn’t in denial. He wasn’t. He just couldn’t accept what he knew.

“Evan.”

“NO. Because if you’re right. If you’re right- if-” Evan was clutching the sofa so hard he thought it might break. He couldn’t remember sitting back down on it. Reg would have- “If you’re right about any of this,” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words. “If you’re right then that would mean that he was-”

“It would mean that he was dead before you even realised he was missing.”

Evan could faintly hear Barty finally losing his composure in the background. He vaguely noted that he was throwing things. Rab was sitting next to him on the sofa in- in R- in Re- in _his_ place. But Evan barely noticed any of that. He couldn’t peel his eyes off the stupid cat mug on the kitchen table, full of tea that Reg was never going to drink.

**. . .**

_“I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.”_

**. . .**

Evan had spent the last three weeks in a haze of rage and grief. Well, he’d spent the last 524 days in a haze of rage and grief. And how pathetic was that? That he knew exactly how long it had been since Regulus had- since he’d been gone. He still couldn’t think the words.

But the rage and fury and hatred and pure violence that he’d unleashed on the world since _it_ still paled in comparison to how he’d felt these last three weeks. Ever since he’d found the letter.

The letter. What a paltry way to describe the information he’d found. The truth about what had happened. How the Dark Lord had _lied_.

He had found it by accident. He hadn’t touched any of Reg’s stuff since that dreadful morning. Barty had snuck in and poured away the untouched mug of tea on the day of the funeral while Rab was distracting him and trying to get him dressed. When they’d come back, it had been to boxes full of Reg’s stuff. His brothers had let themselves in after they’d left and started packing away it away – they’d known he wouldn’t do it himself. He hadn’t reacted well.

So that’s where Reg’s stuff had stayed. In boxes strewn around the flat. Until three weeks ago. It would have been their fourth anniversary, and unlike the previous year – where he’d got black-out drunk and woken the next morning to the news that he’d used Fiendfyre to decimate a muggle village alongside Avery and Travers – he’d been prey to a fit of melancholy and had started looking in the boxes for Reg’s journals.

Ha hadn’t found them. What he had found instead was the copy of _The Iliad_ that Reg had been using to combat his insomnia, still only half-read. He’d opened it to the bookmarked page and the letter had fallen out. If Evan had packed away Reg’s things himself, if he’d even touched anything belonging to him in that horrible, horrible week, he would have found the letter almost instantly. But he hadn’t, and instead Evan had spent nearly a year and a half serving the lying, monstrous madman that had killed his best friend and the person he loved more than anyone else in the world.

That day he’d torn the flat to shreds, searching desperately for some hint, some clue, that Reg might have left behind. He’d known that Regulus would have destroyed any evidence rather than leave it behind where it could be found, but he’d looked anyway. The only thing he’d been able to find was an indent behind his copy of _Numerology and Grammatica _where a book had once been hidden, and a scrap of parchment that had slid behind the bookshelf.

Snape had come searching for him – remembering that it was their anniversary – and had found him sitting on the floor, distraught, surrounded by the chaos he’d caused in his searching and staring at his crossed out name on a list of people that Regulus had decided against trusting, the letter clutched to his chest.

Since that day he’d been barely aware of his surroundings as the letter played through his head on repeat. The only exception had been meetings. He’d remembered Reg’s warning and focused on blocking out thoughts of the letter entirely. He didn’t know what he was doing and guessed this was some echo of how desperate Reg must have been in those last few weeks. He thought he’d been managing it fairly well, considering, if you discounted how worried Rab and Barty had been. They knew something was wrong but couldn’t figure out what. His brothers hadn’t even noticed, and of the others only Snape seemed suspicious, which was a given, seeing as he’d been the one to find Evan in the aftermath.

Of course, that coping had ended today. It was Reg’s birthday. And the Dark Lord had summoned them all “in remembrance” of his death, and then sworn faithfully that even though they’d made little progress towards finding the perpetrator, his death would not remain unavenged – there was new information about the culprit.

Evan had managed to hold out through the entire meeting until the Dark Lord had left, then immediately bolted to the toilet and thrown his guts up.

When his stomach finally settled, he was greeted by a glass of water appearing by his face. He followed the arm back to Rab, and noticed Barty, Snape, and Obadiah Selwyn, the youngest of the six Selwyn cousins, hovering around the doorway behind him.

“I’m fine.” He pushed the offered glass away and got to his feet.

“You’re not fine, you’ve been spiralling for weeks!” Rab moved to block him from leaving and he barely managed to keep himself from snarling at him in frustration.

“I’m fine,” he insisted again.

Not one of the faces surrounding him looked convinced, but he pushed through them all anyway.

“Since when is somebody being sick a spectator sport?”

It was Obadiah who stepped forward – they’d never been all that close, but Reg had tutored him in Charms and Potions for nearly six years, and probably would have continued if- Evan shied away from the thought. “We’re worried about you. You’ve been-” he glanced over his shoulder, and _Snape_ of all people nodded encouragingly. “You’ve been getting worse. But these last few weeks you’ve barely been present, and we’re scared for you.”

That was a surprisingly coherent argument. And Evan still saw the little squirt that had looked up at Reg with huge eyes and begged for help when he looked at him. Which is probably why the others had made him be the one to say it. He bit back another snarl and composed himself.

“I appreciate the concern. I do. But I’m fine.”

Rab opened his mouth to argue, and he cut across him before he could get a word out. “These past few weeks have been hard, yes.” And didn’t it hurt to admit that? “What with our anniversary a few weeks ago and today being-” he cut himself off.

Rab, Snape and Barty exchanged a look they didn’t think he could see, and Evan couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“I’m fine.” He insisted again. “I just need a bit of space.” _To act without being watched._

Their faces remained sceptical, but they allowed him to leave. He apparated straight back to the flat and pulled six letters out of his desk. He had messages to pass on and promises to keep. Rab and Barty’s letters were identical. Sirius Black’s added the detail about Reg’s death. His estranged, disowned, oldest brother got an apology and a plea for forgiveness that Evan doubted he would read. Snape and Obadiah both got thank yous. He left five letters in a pile on the table, where anyone could see them if they came in, and sent Sirius his.

Then he left for the meeting spot.

He, Wilkes, and Todd Selwyn had an Auror to meet. And Evan would be damned if the day didn’t end with the Auror surviving and the three of them failing. Regulus had made his decision to stand against the Dark Lord clear, and Evan would follow him anywhere. Until the very end. _That stupid muggle that Reg liked to quote so much was right. The descent into hell _is _easy._

**. . .**

_Regulus Arcturus Black_

_Loyal son. Dear friend._

_18 April 1961 - 11 November 1979_

_Actions speak louder than words._

_Ave Atque Vale_

**. . .**

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo... Regulus Black! (Yes that second to last line was chosen precisely because of the irony)
> 
> Should be obvious, but just in case: Evan is Evan Rosier, Rab is Rabastan Lestrange, and Barty is Barty Crouch Jr.
> 
> In the pureblood culture I imagine that there are only certain families that Blacks will socialise with. But they will attend gatherings with these people fairly often, and as a result the children of these families get to know each other very well. So, in this scenario, before going to Hogwarts Sirius, Avery Jr, Rabastan Lestrange, Regulus, Evan Rosier, and Barty Crouch Jr know each other fairly well and are pretty close on account of not really having anyone else their age to socialise with (the first three are all in the same year, ditto the last three), at least until Sirius gets sorted into Gryffindor. 
> 
> A note on Regulus and Evan's relationships and homosexual relationships in wizarding society in general:  
Homosexual relationships are neither common nor uncommon and not considered out of the ordinary.  
In pureblood circles marriage is often a contract between two families and not really about love - sometimes the two participants will already have some affection for each other (i.e. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy), sometimes they will not have romantic feelings for each other but work to have a strong partnership anyway (i.e. Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange). They will almost never dislike each other since an unhappy marriage does not a strong alliance make. Oldest sons (especially heirs) and daughters that are not in the direct line are often betrothed to other purebloods as ways of strengthing ties between the families, but never without the permission of all parties involved.  
Homosexual relationships on the other hand, are almost solely about the love and affection the participants have for each other. This is partly because the participants cannot have children unaided (if surrogacy etc. exists in the muggle world then wizards absolutely have a way to make the genetic offspring of two men/two women - fight me!) and partly because it is very rare for a betrothal between either two wizards or two witches to take place (see: one partner takes the other's name, whichever one doesn't keep their name becomes part of the other's family and therefore has less power in the family they are married to - purebloods always want to be at the top of the hierarchy).  
Homosexual relationships are also far more common for purebloods or the magically-raised than muggleborns and the muggle-raised (see: hang-ups about homosexuality in the non-magical world).  
However, in pureblood society in general, couples of any sort are rarely referred to as such to younger members of the family and are instead described as either "closest allies" or "best friends" (I'm sure some of you can see where this is headed) depending on how the child's parents want to describe that particular couple's relationship to their child (if, for example, they are referring to the parents of someone they are interested in betrothing their child to then they will refer to the couple as "closest allies" to encourage the mindset in their child. If, on the other hand, they are referring to a couple who married for love rather than political strength, they will refer to them as "best friends" as there was nothing technically advantageous about the relationship).  
So: yes. Evan's Cousin Noah and Uncle Alex are in fact married, not just best friends. (They'll actually have their first child about a year after the scene takes place and their second child approximately two years later). Evan will not realise this until he is almost 14 and _will_ be suitably embarrassed by the fact. Regulus will take even longer and by that time will be too head-over-heels for Evan to be embarrassed about the fact that they essentially swore a marriage vow to each other when they were ten.
> 
> Finally:  
"Nemo nisi mors" means "No one except death" and is traditionally implied to be followed by "...shall part us" and is in common use as wedding vows or carved onto wedding rings.  
"The descent into hell is easy" is a quote from Virgil's _The Aenid_ and is "Facilis Descensus Averno" in original latin.  
"Ave Atque Vale" means "hail and farewell" and is from a Latin poet about his brother and is traditionally used in funerals
> 
> If you want you can come and scream at me on [ tumblr](https://booksandreadingismylife.tumblr.com)  
It should also have updates on stuff I'm working on as well as meta for HP


End file.
